by Holly Rayner
She raced down the street, grateful she’d found a lifeline. Her entire career might be over. She’d ruined her chances of working with the most important tech mogul of her generation. And, worst of all, she’d given him a token that revealed how much he meant to her, and how much she’d actually messed up.
***
Chelsea was already waiting for her outside of the bagel place. Her face broke into a sympathetic smile, and she wrapped her arms around her friend, holding Charlotte close. Charlotte allowed a single sob to escape from her mouth.
The girls ordered bagels with cream cheese and smoked salmon, voiding their minds of the worries of carbohydrates and diving into a nearby booth, bringing their faces close together and whispering.
“Okay so. What happened? Did he remember you?” Chelsea asked, her eyes large.
“Of course not,” Charlotte scoffed, swallowing a bite of her bagel. She blotted under her eyes with a napkin, trying to remedy the mascara streaks. “Remember how I told you I had to take on all those other projects to help Katrina? Meaning, I couldn’t read over all the paperwork he’d sent over?”
Chelsea nodded. “Sure. Not that Katrina would ever prepare for anything.”
“Right. Exactly. And then, she calls in sick. And just like that, I’m forced into this meeting that I’m not prepared for, with the man of my dreams.” Charlotte sighed, and realized she’d lost her appetite. She shoved her bagel to the side, placing her cheeks in her hands. “And worst of all, I gave him the cufflink, and I bailed before I got to see his reaction.”
Chelsea tilted her head. “You brought it all the way there?”
“I’d already brought it with me across the States, Chelsea. I might as well have brought it along today. And now he knows how weirdly fascinated with him I am. Obsessed with someone who doesn’t even know I exist.”
Chelsea bit her lip. “I think it’s sweet. And if you explained the reason for being unprepared, I’m sure he understands. He’s probably been unprepared before, too; you have to remember he’s only human.”
“But I’ve never been unprepared,” Charlotte said. “I passed the bar with flying colors. I know he and I are so alike, but I didn’t prove myself or show him that. And now it’s over.”
The two friends sat like that for a while, Chelsea playing the role of therapist, helping to guide her friend from the depths of her sadness and self-doubt. She knew not to ask questions. She knew to keep her head above water. And she knew to box up Charlotte’s bagel for her, because she was definitely going to want it at 3 p.m.
“Listen. Don’t destroy yourself over this,” Chelsea told her as she walked her back to Ellis and Associates. “Things happen for a reason. And I wouldn’t drop all hope on this. Not yet.”
Charlotte kissed her friend on the cheek and snuck back into her office building, highly conscious of the people who passed her on their way out for lunch. She slipped into the elevator, thankful she hadn’t yet had to speak to anyone, and hoped she could get through the day without a single conversation, without a single explanation. Perhaps Sean had already called Ellis and Associates, explaining that he was going to go with a different firm. Perhaps it was already over, and she would return to her normal, ladder-climbing life.
Perhaps it didn’t matter any longer.
FIVE
Charlotte locked herself in her office for the afternoon, her mind spinning. Outside, she sensed that the usual schedule continued without her. She watched interns scan documents and play on their phones; she watched Lyle come back into the building and waddle into his personal office, holding a bag of fast food. She’d told him countless times to cut back on the sodium and saturated fat, but his continuous stress led him to drive-thru lunches, eaten on the hoof, and she understood his motives in that moment—carbs equaled comfort.
Her attention outside of her room didn’t last long. Today, Charlotte was hiding, diving into her massive workload and feeling her eyes dry out as she stared at the screen. She didn’t dare peek into the Sean Lawson file labelled “priority” in her email, even knowing that the casework she’d been given was important and wasn’t to be ignored. Her mind was a million miles away.
Of course, she knew she’d have to tell Lyle about what had occurred with Sean at some point. Throughout the afternoon, people came to her door, knocking and waiting for her to unlock it, peering through the one small gap in her blinds. Each time, Charlotte swept her phone to her ear, pretending to be on an important call, while mouthing “sorry” and shrugging apologetically. And each time, the intern, or whoever yearned to inquire about her meeting, nodded in understanding and mouthed that they’d come back later.
She couldn’t keep this up forever, she knew. But it would work until she cultivated some kind of plan of attack.
Around three-thirty, Charlotte was typing notes for one of her other cases, nibbling on the leftovers of her bagel. She turned her eyes to her office window and noted that Lyle was coming toward her, his walk determined. She lurched, shoving her phone to her ear in yet another fake phone call.
As Lyle reached her door, he peeked in through the gap in the blinds and gave her a steady, even wave.
“On the phone?” he mouthed.
She nodded, her eyes wide. “Sorry,” she mouthed. She felt moments away from vomiting.
As Lyle began to turn away from her, she leaned back in her chair, aching for the end of the day. Maybe she could leave, say she was sick. Maybe she could pull the food poisoning card, à la Katrina.
But as she leaned back, the phone actually began to ring, blaring in her ear. She jumped, and almost dropped it, nervous. Perhaps this was Lyle, catching her mid-lie. She took a sharp, fast inhale, pushed her shoulders back, and answered the call, her voice shaky. She couldn’t handle this lack of confidence.
“Hello. This is Charlotte Waters.”
“Charlotte. Hi. It’s Sean.”
Charlotte’s face snapped toward the window, where she caught a glimpse of Sean’s building, several blocks away. The afternoon sun was glinting upon it, emitting a warm orange across the glass panels.
“Sean—Sean Lawson?” she said. She felt she was imagining this. Perhaps this was a prank phone call, set up by Katrina.
“Yes. Sean Lawson, the salesman. Were you still interested in purchasing one of those prime-time television packages for your apartment? You have three days remaining with this sale. And let me tell you, an offer like this won’t come around for another fifty years.”
Charlotte paused, allowing the words to fall over her ears. And then, the man on the other line started to chuckle.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You sounded so surprised to hear my name. I couldn’t help myself.”
Charlotte’s eyes were bulging out of their sockets, bug-like. She tilted her head, her heart beating quickly at the sound of his voice. “You’re calling me? Why?” she asked. She didn’t respond to his joke; she felt too emotional, too shaken up. Sean didn’t sound angry; he didn’t sound as if he’d called to fire her. Rather—he sounded like a companion. Like a friend.
“Charlotte, I understand you were under a great deal of strain today. But you did what anyone of your caliber would have done—you tried to work with what you had. And I’m afraid I didn’t respond well to that; I get ‘hangry’ a little too easily. I jumped all over you for not being fully prepared—despite the circumstances, which were out of your control. And I wanted to apologize.”
“That’s quite all right,” Charlotte said, her voice just above a whisper. “Truly, it was unprofessional of me. I should have been upfront with you immediately. It won’t happen again.”
That’s right, she thought. Because you’re not his attorney. Katrina is.
“After all,” Charlotte went on, “Katrina will be well in a few days, and she’s far more prepared for your case. No further time will be wasted. I can guarantee that.” She spoke with certainty, attempting to take on her lawyer mentality. Inwardly, she was panicking. She’d assumed she wouldn�
�t hear his voice again in her life. And he’d actively searched out her number.
“I actually called about that, Charlotte,” he said then. “I wondered if you’d like to take on my case, yourself. Without Katrina.”
Charlotte stood up from her seat, lightning fast, onto quaking legs. She paused for long enough to cause Sean to laugh once more, a guttural, friendly laugh that made her smile.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go quiet like that,” Charlotte said, blushing. “I was just shocked. I mean. This morning—I was horrible. I had nothing to offer you.”
“I looked you up,” Sean said. “For obvious reasons. And I saw you graduated from Yale Law. You know that’s my alma mater, don’t you?”
She pondered this, wondering if he’d recognized the cufflink. It had been a strange gift, indeed. One cufflink, out of a set of two. Yet, why was he calling her, if he thought she was that kind of loon?”
“Sure,” she said, pacing around her office. “I loved Yale. It was home.”
“I felt the same way,” he said, his voice going soft. “I also saw you graduated fifth in your class. Quite a feat, considering you specialized in tech law. Only the biggest nerds do that, don’t they?”
Charlotte grinned. “Biggest nerds? You’re one to talk, Mr. Lawson,” she said. She felt herself growing flirtatious, but she couldn’t allow these feelings to escalate through her—she needed to keep a clear head.
“Good point,” Sean affirmed. “But. I learned you’ve been clambering up the ranks at your firm, until you were passed over for promotion by none other than the owner’s daughter, and the very woman who was meant to represent me. Now, is that just a coincidence, I wonder?”
“Of course not,” Charlotte laughed. Her heart flipped.
“I’ve seen this kind of thing countless times over the years. The management believes they need to promote the daughter, the son, or whatever of the owner of the company. And people with real talent, that have put in real hard work, suffer because of it. Don’t you agree?”
“I don’t think I want to say anything,” Charlotte said, giggling. “I could get fired.”
“Well. Anyway. What do you think about my proposal, hmm?” He was obviously smiling on the other end of the line; she could feel it in his voice. “Won’t you represent me? Won’t you take this shot to propel your career to the top? Just imagine it.”
Charlotte centered her eyes on the horizon, far out over the water. The Seattle fog had begun to rise up, swallowing the buildings. Her brain was buzzing, her heart was about to burst from her chest.
“Well. I suppose I have to accept,” she said joyously. She felt like leaping into the air. She felt like screaming. But she stayed steady on her heels, gazing out to sea, like a sailor ready for the storm. She knew that somewhere, Katrina was lying in wait, certain to pounce on this news when she heard it.
But in that moment, she couldn’t care less. She felt jubilant. She felt immune to Katrina’s wrath. She was a rising star.
“That’s great,” Sean exclaimed. “Really great. I can’t wait to get started.”
“Me neither. You said the premium package on the television subscription, correct?” she said, falling into the joke.
“Absolutely, Miss Waters. We’ll have that package for you shortly, so you can get started on season three of Keeping up with the Kardashians.”
Charlotte laughed, her stomach clenching. Already, they were playing with each other. “All right. Really, though. Let’s arrange a proper meeting, so we can go through these documents. How does tomorrow sound to you? I can rearrange my schedule to make anything work.”
“Amazing, Charlotte. Thank you so much. Let’s say tomorrow, around lunchtime. Half-past noon? I can have something ready for us, so I don’t become the hangry monster you saw earlier today.”
“Sounds wonderful, Mr. Lawson,” she said, jotting the time on her notepad, as if she’d ever forget it. “I’ll see you then. I just hope your secretary doesn’t actually kill me with that death glare.”
“She’s a tough one, that Denise,” he said, laughing. “All right. I’ll see you then. And call me Sean, okay?”
The line went dead, leaving Charlotte in stunned silence, zoning out to the buzzing noise coming from the phone for a second before hanging up the receiver and walking over to her window. She placed her fingertips against the pane, gazing down to the streets below. Cars zoomed past; people dipped between them, rushing headlong through traffic. It was a frenzied mess, while also a well-coordinated dance. It mirrored the movement in her brain, as the various pieces of her life seemed to come together.
She was going to be the sole attorney for Sean Lawson. She was going to spend alone time with him, constantly. And, best of all, her memory of